Despite its title, Yvette Segan’s stand-up comedy show is one for the girls.
Like me, you might recognise Segan from her short-form internet content on Tiktok and Instagram, where she’s known for her uncomfortably honest and awkward personal stories and niche observations, which unsurprisingly translate perfectly to a one-hour Fringe show.
Segan’s almost unsettlingly awkward delivery is the crux of the show’s humour, as throughout the one hour set she consistently self-depricates, and outwardly asks for validation from the audience after sharing embarrassing truths and stories, making the show predominantly conversational. Sitting in the front row made me experience the show less as an audience member and more as a friend being casually caught up on the comedian’s life.
Her crowd work mostly consisted of making small talk with the front row of her audience and forcing herself into uncomfortable pauses. Ironically, this awkwardness is exactly where Segan’s comedy thrives and breaks any notion of a barrier between the audience and stage. I especially enjoyed the way Segan wasn’t afraid to poke fun and lightly embarrass her audience, especially the men in the room.
Segan’s awkward comedic persona, not only enhances her strongest punchlines but also makes any shortcomings nearly undetectable — pauses, mild audience reactions, or choppy segues are part of the bit, and Segan plays into this awkwardness remarkably well, remaining perfectly charming and endearing even in the most uncomfortable moments.
The comedian confidently blends deeply personal stories with observations about anything from hormonal birth control, to how odd-looking genitalia can say a lot about a man’s character. Segan’s complete transparency about her experiences never fails to make the audience wonder whether the stories are true, and she does a great job of making an unlikely situation, like becoming obsessed with an ex’s new porn star girlfriend, into relatable and validating commentary, like the difficulty of being a good “girls’ girl” when women are constantly pitted against each other. The comedy is frequently centred around sex but it never feels too crass, and again, has the familiar intimacy of a gossiping session.
While I left the show feeling both close to the comedian and her experiences — from a comedic standpoint I found some moments of the show to be slightly underdeveloped. More than once I thought I could predict the punchlines or had the thought of “Oh, this bit is going to link with that bit” with it never doing so. I also felt like a few of the jokes and observations relied heavily on Segan’s performance but weren’t that interesting in isolation. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but there was definitely an imbalance of delightfully original punchlines, and other parts that perhaps banked on their relatability.
Yvette Segan: Guy’s Girl is running until the 17th of August at The Den at Gilded Balloon Teviot. Buy Tickets here.
Image provided to The Student by Gilded Balloon for press use
